Moments
by FangDragon15005
Summary: Abandoned by the father of her unborn child, and the family who adopted her, Hermione only has the support of Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. Will Draco be able to help the woman he loves raise the child she created with his childhood enemy, or will he also abandon her? M for sexual situations and language.
1. Prologue to a Prologue

A Prequel to a Prequel

There are many moments that define a person's life. Moments of joy, sorrow, pain, and, in my experience, even boredom. But there is that one moment that defines the rest of your life. There is that one moment where you are given too many or far too few options to choose from. In that moment that you are in, you are either given nothing more than mere minutes and seconds or life gives you endless days to choose what path you will follow.

Sometimes we overlook little choices and never think that it was at that moment that your life would change forever. My grandmother always told me, "Don't go looking for big miracles. They occur only once in a great while. Concentrate on the small miracles that we overlook every day. The first flower to bloom in a withering garden; the movement of your child within your womb; the love you hold in your heart. Those are the miracles that make this world a place I want to live in." Miracles are like moments. Don't think that only the big ones count. Sometimes, it's the smaller ones that make the biggest difference in your life.

But in that moment, things will happen and choices will be made that will forever change the course of your story, and even the stories of those around you. That moment will forever be burned in your memory, and that moment will outshine all other moments in your life. Sometimes the path from that junction will be so strenuous all you want to do is turn back, but you can't. Other times you will want to sit down and take a break, but there are no breaks in life.

Your life isn't like taking a turn about the park. Once you set out after that moment, you can't go back. You can cry, shout, scream, and fight, but once you make that choice at that moment that defines the rest of your life, there is nothing you can do to change what might/could/should/would have been.

Not even a Time-Turner Necklace.

_Flashback Harry & Hermione 6__th__ Year_

He couldn't stand the sight of her crying. It always pained him so. She, who was giving, loving, kind, and smart, should never shed a single tear.

But, above all else, she only saw him for the person that he was on the inside. While he was known throughout the Wizarding community as the Boy Who Lived, to this girl at his side he was simply Harry Potter. And he loved her for that.

This girl was barely a woman, but she had faced more than most adults who lived to see the ripe old age of 102. This was the girl who always had all the answers. This was the girl who he could turn to at a moment's notice, and she would forsake all others and come running to aid him in any and every way she could.

He'd always loved her, but never in _that _way. But at this moment, on these steps, in that tower room, he felt something else entirely. Anger.

It surged through his body and awakened every single cell that he contained. Although this feeling wasn't new to him, this time it consumed him and ate away at him. HE felt like his body was made of wax, and this sobbing girl in his arms was an open flame. Her pain devoured him. His anger at HER consumed him.

Harry knew that she loved Ron, but never before had it been as apparent as this. Never before this moment had she ever come out and stated her feelings so plainly, and now that she had, though he comforted her with meaningless words, he felt nothing but anger. No, that wasn't true. He felt jealous. Jealous of Ron. Ron had always had the love of his family and friends. People didn't flock to Ron because he was famous for something that he didn't even remember. People became friends with Ron because he was a likable bloke. Ron never had to fear that someone would use him for his nonexistent money or for his unimportant family name. Ron could accept an offer of friendship as nothing more than what it was, an offer of friendship.

People would always turn to Harry because he was the Chosen One. Everybody had so far. Sure, he had friends, but why had they become his friends? Because he was Harry fucking Potter. The only true person who had ever befriended and loved him for him was this girl, Hermione. Not even his precious Ginny had liked him for him. She had liked him because of the story her parents would tell her of the famous Harry Potter. She wanted the hero in him. The same thing everybody else wanted.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry for carrying on so much. You have to deal with this every day you see Ginny with Dean. And even before Dean, she was always with someone else. It's not fair for me to cry like this to you, "Hermione stated, rather suddenly bringing him out of his disturbing thoughts. Harry simply looked down at her tear-streaked face and kissed her. Hermione, eyes wide open in shock, tried to push him off gently, but seeing as she was rather small, especially compared to him, she didn't really have a chance. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, Harry let her go.

"I need you, Hermione. _We_ need each other. It makes no sense to pine after people who obviously don't feel the same way we do about them," Harry told her, gently stroking her cheek while hugging her waist with his other arm. He pulled her to him once again, and this time she almost went willingly.

Harry pulled her closer, almost crushing her to him. Though she had only meant to comfort him, her words had only enraged him even further. Hermione was right. Ginny was always with someone else. Even though she'd confessed to liking him years ago, and even though Hermione had told him Ginny still did like him, that didn't stop her from being passed from guy to guy. He could feel Hermione trying to push him away, but he had to be on top for once. Just once he had to get the girl before someone else did.

"Please, Hermione. I don't think I can go another night feeling so unwanted. So unloved," he knew exactly what to say to convince her. And even though that little voice in the back of his mind told him he shouldn't be doing this to the only person who did love him, he couldn't stop.

Hermione eventually stopped resisting him. It felt wrong to kiss him like this, but she was so alone. She'd never been kissed before by anybody, not even Krum. And to feel the need and desire she felt from Harry's kiss was gratifying. She, the bookworm, needed this. At least one time, she had to be selfish. She needed to be wanted. And there was a voice inside her that maliciously whispered all her shortcomings. So, she allowed Harry to be her blanket. She allowed him to save her from herself that night.

And that is where they lay, struggling to learn the secrets of passion, that neither had ever known before. In that tower they stopped being children.

Unbeknownst to them, however, a slight young man with blond hair and silver eyes was slowly opening the door. He'd heard Hermione crying as he was walking through the castle trying to clear his mind. He'd heard her cry enough times, that he knew no matter what happened or how long he'd live he would always remember the sound of her distinct sobs. What he wasn't prepared for, though, was the sight before him. There she was in _his _arms; the scar-faced git. He slowly and quietly closed the door again and backed away from the room.

He would never admit to anyone that seeing those two had been the worst thing he'd ever seen. Seeing the horrors of the Dark Lord were nothing compared to seeing that filthy bitch being groped by that wanker. Gods, how he hated them with a passion. Especially her. She was everything he had always been against, and now seeing her allowing Potter to touch and kiss her made him decide he needed to move along with his plans. Draco had been terrified of failing, so terrified, in fact, that he had almost gone to that old loony, Dumbledore, and ask for help for his mother, and father, and for himself. But seeing Mudblood Granger act like a common slut shattered those thoughts.

He would do what the Dark Lord had commanded, and then when the Wizarding world was at his Master's feet, he would make her pay for her actions that night. This was the moment he resolved that he would get his fellow Death Eaters into Hogwarts, and he, Draco Lucius Malfoy, would kill Dumbledore, protector of Mudbloods, like her.

Standing straighter than ever before in his life, Draco walked determinedly to the Room of Requirements. Sleep could wait, but the Vanishing Cabinet would not repair itself.

Back in the room in the tower, Harry held a naked Hermione as she silently mourned her lost virginity. She, who had always prided herself at being level-headed had allowed her virtue to be taken from her in a moment of grief and passion. _"At least it was to my very best friend,"_ she thought, trying desperately to console herself. However, she knew she had to speak up and make things clear to Harry.

"Harry, I want you to know I don't regret what just happened, but I do love Ronald. And I will wait for him. I love you, too, but we can't allow our emotions to overcome us like that again. At least we know there won't be consequences to this night. I'm on birth control, but you have to remember to ask the next girl. She might not be using any form of contraceptive, and the last thing you want is-"

"Hermione, do you ever stop lecturing? Not even a good shag gets you to hush up," he cut her off, jokingly. For a moment they just looked at each other, but then the silence was shattered by their combined laughter. Hermione felt relief at his apparent agreement to her thoughts about not wanting anything to progress between them after this night, but little did she know that Harry was silently rejoicing. He finally had taken something right from under Ron's nose. It didn't matter if she ended up with Ron or even some other man at the end. He, Harry, had been her first lover, the taker of her innocence, he had made her a woman, and Hermione would never forget that.

As they dressed and walked back to their common room, each was silent, lost in their own thoughts. There was much that each had learned that night from the other. Harry now knew that Hermione had a small beauty mark under her left breast and small birthmark on her left hip that looked like a four-leaf clover if you squinted. Hermione, on the other hand, now knew that Harry had started growing chest hair and made rather girlish noises when he came. _"But maybe all men make those same noises. It's not like I can compare it to anything else_."

What neither of them knew was that, _that moment_ had been the moment that changed their lives completely. Not the troll in first year. Not the Yule Ball when Harry finally saw how beautiful Hermione really was. Nor was it fifth year when he thought she was dead from the curse to her chest.

That moment of jealousy and anger, of sadness and longing had been the moment that would change their lives from that day forward. They might not have noticed it, but their actions that night had caused the calm waters around them to shift and begin to ripple. Maybe not soon, but those ripples would soon cause the biggest disturbance those calm waters had ever seen.

**A/N: So, here I did start another story, but it might just end up being a one-shot depending on reviews and the time I have. **

**I also am still working on **_**Tumbling Down**_**. I would never abandon it. I have had time to write it, but some of the PMs that people sent me, kind of made me back off and see exactly what it was that I wanted to do with that story. **

**Anyways, thank you so much for your time, and hopefully your reviews. **

**Take Care! And constructive criticisms are always most thankfully accepted, but let's try to be polite about it. And if anyone can tell me how to get a beta, I would definitely appreciate that. **


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Mrs. Malfoy, may I come in?" asked a timid voice from the open door of her cell.

Narcissa Malfoy looked up from the desk she was staring blankly down at. The timbre and politeness of that voice had startled her. She was used to dark, deep, almost guttural voices demanding and ordering her about. She wasn't afraid or shocked as she had once been of those commanding voices, though. She'd been in that cell for almost seven weeks now. Seven weeks! She hadn't seen her child or husband in seven weeks! But, then again, she would never see Lucius again. Never again. As tears began to form in the corner of her eyes, the gentle voice made the request again. Discreetly, Narcissa blinked the tears away.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she slowly nodded her head. It wasn't until the young woman was standing directly in front of her did Narcissa realize who she was, Hermione Granger. With a towering stack of books floating behind her. Narcissa remembered all the scathing remarks Draco had made about how Granger was the residential bookworm, not only of Hogwarts, but of the entire universe.

Hermione stood in front of her, her wand pointed at the books, glancing nervously about the room.

"You can sit down if you like, Ms, Granger," Narcissa told her.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione replied lowering herself onto the little blue sofa facing the desk and chair that Mrs. Malfoy currently occupied. Once settled, she lowered the books she'd brought onto the floor in front of her feet, but a little to the side.

"I would offer you tea and biscuits, but I'm afraid my jailers don't really provide me with those necessities," Narcissa said scathingly. She wasn't upset with Hermione. She was just fed up about not being allowed certain privileges that she'd grown up with. Looking closely at her, she saw how Hermione pursed her lips slightly, as if disapproving the remark she'd made.

'Mrs. Malfoy, I'm not here to exchange pleasantries. I came to discuss some issues of great importance. While I understand your anger at being forced to be here, I must remind you that you are far better off than most people in your position. I might also be inclined to remind you that it is your own fault for being held prisoner at all."

Now it was Narcissa who slightly pursed her lips. She didn't like being reproached by a young woman her son's age, but even more so when that young woman was right. It was Narcissa's fault that she was now awaiting trial. Four weeks before Lucius had stood trial and had been found guilty. Of course with no one to defend his case, the Wizengamot had hastily ordered his execution and the very next day, Lucius Malfoy, the only child of Abraxas and Lucretia Malfoy, was beheaded. While the Wizarding world celebrated his death, Narcissa mourned her murdered soul mate. At least Draco had been spared, although he'd had to pay the sum of 500,000 galleons and had been forced to sign over the ancestral Malfoy estate to the ministry. But the money and manor didn't matter to her. Her child was alive, and that was the only thing that mattered.

She noticed that Hermione had begun to fidget nervously where she sat, waiting for her to say something.

"Yes, Ms. Granger. It is my fault that I am here. I chose to follow the ideology ingrained into me by my family from the moment of my birth. I chose to follow the Dark Lord, and I permitted my son to take his Mark and commit horrible sins. Is that what you want to hear?! Do you want me to tell you I know what a terrible mother I've become? Or how I watched as my only child, my only reason for living, slowly turned into a cruel and sadistic monster?!" Narcissa cried passionately. She'd heard from the guards how people called her a monster, and read how she was now called "Mumster" by Rita Skeeter and her faithful followers, a bunch of old biddies who had nothing better to do.

She was therefore shocked when Hermioen crossed the small space between them and knelt down at her feet, grasping her own cold hands in between her warm ones.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you did what was expected of you by your family and peers, I could never judge you for that. Yes, you and Draco did some pretty awful things, but you also behaved quite bravely. Draco neither confirmed nor denied it was Harry at the manor that night, which bought us some time. And Harry told me what you did that night in the forest. How you lied to Voldemort about Harry being dead. I know you did that so you could get your son back, but it doesn't lessen the courage that single action took," Hermione responded, eyes full of compassion and sympathy.

"But I permitted my sister to torture you on my floor, in my home! How can you even stand to look at me, child? Here you kneel holding my hands, telling me how courageously I acted, when we both know I was a coward. I can clearly see the word still on your arm. The word my own flesh and blood carved into your arm," Narcissa stated meekly, turning Hermione's left arm so that the word "Mudblood" was visible. The healed skin was slightly raised and a very light pink. Anyone would think that it would soon heal completely, but Narcissa knew better. The knife had been dipped in poison, a poison that ensured that a wound would never completely heal.

"That doesn't matter to me," Hermione said, snatching her arm back from Narcissa's gaze. "I am a mudblood, my parents are muggles, and I'm damn proud of it! I don't care that others may look down on me. I know what I'm capable of, and I won't allow the words and actions of others to bring me down. Mrs. Malfoy, please understand that I no longer blame you. I am here to tell you that I forgive you, and I forgive Draco. I will not allow my new life to begin with anger, sadness, or regret. No one wants to represent you, and I want you to know that I will represent you. When you stand tomorrow in the courtroom I will be by your side, pleading with you. If others have forgiven you and your crimes against them, why can't you forgive yourself? You have suffered enough at the hands of others, all of us have. Please don't suffer at your own hands by your own doing. Please, forgive yourself."

It wasn't in Narcissa to demonstrate physical affection to anyone but her husband and child, so even she was surprised when she found herself hugging Hermione and crying uncontrollably.

And that is how Hermione Jean Granger and Narcissa Malfoy became friends. This moment of forgiveness, compassion, and love for a fellow human being altered the direction that Hermione's life was heading in. And Narcissa's.

And Draco's. We mustn't forget about him.


	3. Not Again

**Warning: I guess this is a little smutty, but not too much. I promise not too much!**

**Chapter 1: Not Again**

_6 Years Later_

It happened again. What she swore would never happen, happened again. Quietly she tip-toed across the bedroom, _his_ bedroom, and with a loud _CRACK!_ disapparated once she'd reached the living room, _his _living room.

With shame and a heavy heart, she entered her bathroom, and turned on the shower. She stared at herself in the mirror over her vanity table as she undressed. Her lips were swollen, her eyes were wary; her neck had several bruises from where he'd sucked as he'd rammed into her all too willing body. He'd been so rough this time.

She blushed as she remembered how she'd moaned his name, while he grunted hers. In her mind's eye, she saw how she'd clung to him as he thrust himself over and over and over again into her. She still heard the slapping noise that their skin made when they came into contact over and over again. But most of all, she still felt the leftover tingle of the orgasm that had washed through her body.

Finally naked, she stepped into the shower and allowed the scalding water to rush over her body. She began scrubbing and wiping her skin, until she felt as if her skin was raw. Only then did she stop. She tried to get out of the shower, but she couldn't. Slowly, she lowered herself to the tiled floor of her shower. As soon as her bum touched the ground, the tears began cascading down her cheeks.

It was fair to say that Hermione hated herself in that moment. Once more, she'd slept with Harry, her best friend. Her ex-boyfriend's best friend. And Ginny's current fiancé.

And this time she'd instigated it. She'd gone to his home at two in the morning after having cried all day. But really, could you blame her? Just that morning she'd read the sickening article in the Daily Prophet.

_Chudley Cannon Keeper and member of the Golden Trio, Ronald Bilius Weasley, has tied the knot with Susan Bones, his girlfriend of three weeks and the second youngest member of the Wizengamot. As is well known, Ms. Hermione Jean Granger, also a member of the Golden Trio, became the youngest member of Wizengamot at 19 years old, after having successfully defended Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy, accused Death Eater and follower of the Dark Lord , Voldemort. It is also well known that Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger ended their relationship of six years a little over two months ago. One can only wonder at the hastiness of this wedding…._

Oh, Merlin! It had gone on to suggest that Susan was pregnant and that was why she and Ron had married so quickly. And a heart-broken Hermione had to agree.

For six years, she had believed that what she and Ron had was amazing. She loved him with every fiber, and she'd thought the he felt the same passion she did. But how wrong she'd been. At Harry and Ginny's engagement party, the cracks had begun to show. She'd jokingly told Ron that soon his family and their friends would be having an engagement party for _them_, and he'd gone as pale as a ghost.

Exactly a week later, she'd received an owl at work from him telling her to meet him at home as soon as possible. Thinking he was in trouble, she'd quickly gone home to help him with whatever problem he was facing.

What she'd found instead were suitcases and an apologetic Ron.

"_I'm so sorry, babe. I really am. It's just that Ginny and Harry's engagement party opened up my eyes. I do love you, but not in the 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you' way," he said, looking down at his gigantic feet. _

She'd pleaded, begged, cried, and threatened him. She'd acted completely un-Hermioneish. She had a made a fool of herself, but she didn't care. She loved him so much. When he'd left with all his things, her heart literally broke.

And the problem with broken hearts is that they don't break neatly down the middle. They break into thousands of jagged pieces, which land in different places on the ground, and when you go to pick them up, you cut your fingers on the sharp edges. When you drop that piece to the ground so you can grasp your finger to staunch the bleeding, that damned piece shatters yet again.

It was a vicious circle.

With the makings of a headache from all her spilled tears, Hermione made her way out of her bathroom and into her bedroom to start getting ready for work.

Suddenly her fireplace lit up with green flames, and one extremely annoyed Draco Malfoy stepped through. He took one look at her towel-clad body and turned around, giving her some privacy.

"Leave it to you muggle-borns to be late for breakfast. You are aware I've been waiting for you at that bagel place for over an hour, right?" he asked her, annoyed.

"I'm so sorry, Draco. I really just overslept," she said, hastily putting on a tan-colored slip and a plum-covered robe with silver brocade over it.

"I figured as much. Listen, I'm really sorry about, well you know who," he replied, not wanting to say Ron's name in case she started to cry. "What he and Bones did was really classless and tactless. They should have known better. By Merlin, the dolt only left you two months ago!"

"You can turn around now," she said to him, as she hastily cast a charm to dry her hair. "It doesn't matter anymore, Draco. What's done is done, and there's no changing it."

She said that last part more for her benefit than his. Looking down at her small form, he was floored. She was absolutely stunning; peach-colored skin, pink cheeks, chocolate eyes, untamable, curly brown hair, pert nose, and full red lips. Whatever god existed had outdone himself on this creature, Draco thought.

"You look beautiful," he told her sincerely, taking her arm and leading her back to the fireplace to floo to the Ministry.

If only in that moment she had looked up at him instead of looking down into her purse, she would have seen the love and devotion etched into his face. But she didn't. She was too busy looking for her chap-stick to see that Draco Malfoy was in love with her. Hell, he'd been in love with her for three years now.

It hadn't always been that way. He'd grudgingly thanked her for getting his mother off on some technicality she'd found in an old tome of hers. Then he'd started enjoying debating with her every afternoon when she visited his mom for tea and biscuits. That's all they ever ate together. He'd once suggested to his mother that they invite Hermione over for dinner, and she'd told him there were some things about her friendship with Hermione that he would never understand.

Then they had started eating lunch together every Tuesday and Friday when he had to go to the Ministry for Memory Observation, a part of his probation. He hated those sessions. They always delved into his mind so forcefully; they left migraines that no potion could get rid of it. As months passed, he began to realize that he actually looked forward to those days because he got to see Hermione and spend an entire hour with her.

And then, four years ago when she told him and his mother that she and the Weasel were going to move in together he knew that the jealousy and pain her felt were caused by the love he had for her. But he knew that for some reason the Weasel made her happy, and he would never take anything that made her happy away from her.

But now that the idiot was finally out of the way, he had his chance. He could make her see that what she needed was a Malfoy, not some Weasley.

Draco was so sure that he would finally be able to woo Hermione properly that he didn't stop to think of what could go wrong.

But then again who stops to think that Fate is often unkind in the face of what is sure to be unending happiness?

And while Draco was busy leading Hermione to her office at the Ministry, Harry Potter was waking up with a grin on his face thinking how lucky he was to have been able to sample Hermione once more, and feeling just a little remorseful for having cheated on Ginny…at least Hermione hadn't gone one and on about contraceptive this time he thought.

And Fate, being the utter bitch that she is, laughed to herself.

In six weeks Harry would be woken up in the middle of the night by Hermione pounding on his door, again. But this time Hermione would be holding a sonogram and the lab results from her gynecologist confirming her pregnancy instead of a half-finished bottle of Firewhiskey.


	4. A Really Bad Joke

**Chapter 2: A Really Bad Joke**

Harry James Potter did not enjoy being woken up in the middle of the night after an exceptionally long day at work. Actually, come to think of it, he did not enjoy being woken up in the middle of the night at all. So, when he awoke to loud and continuous knocking on the door at 1:56AM, he was not amused.

Grumpily, he reached for his glasses, which were perched precariously on his night table, and jammed them onto his face. Getting out of bed, proved to require more energy, so it took him quite a few tries to finally swing his legs off the bed and stand up, but when he did he was even more pissed off. Whoever was knocking would not _fucking stop!_

"I'm coming!" He yelled forcefully, as he made his way through his flat to the front door. Just as suddenly as it had started, the knocking ceased. As he yanked the door open, he was surprised at finding a visibly shaken Hermione. Her eyes were red and puffy, so she had been crying, he thought.

"Ummm, hey, Hermione," Harry said nervously. He stepped back, so that she could enter. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but didn't or couldn't. She merely walked past Harry, sat down on his couch, and opened her bag. Harry couldn't help but think something was wrong.

He tried to think of what could possibly be worrying Hermione so much that she had come to his home so late, but he drew a blank. Lately, she'd withdrawn from him and the Weasley's. Every single time since that fateful Sunday night that she'd shown up plastered, and they'd had incredible sex, she'd refused to go to family suppers at the Burrow, responded in negative to any lunch he asked her to, and had even told Ginny she did not want to be a bridesmaid anymore. Of course, the Weasley clan thought all of this was Ron's fault, and had begun taking out their frustration on him and his new wife, who, thank God, was not pregnant. Molly had even "forgotten" to invite Ron and Susan for the picnic that had been held the day before in hopes that Hermione would come along, even if it did mean towing Draco in her wake. If only they knew, that it wasn't Ron's fault, he thought, grimly.

He sat down on the other end of the couch and looked at Hermione expectantly. She continued to say nothing, choosing instead to reach over and hand him a white and blue plastic tube and a black and white picture. He took them in his hands and looked at what appeared to be a tiny blob on the picture. Not understanding what he was looking at, he chose to look at the plastic tube. A plus sign stared back happily at him. He looked up to find Hermione staring down at her clenched hands, tears silently escaping her eyes. And that's when it hit him: she was pregnant. God, he could just kill Ron!

"So, does Ron know?" he asked quietly, scooting closer to her.

"Huh? Why would I tell him?" she asked, finally looking up at him, with confusion in her eyes.

"I mean, I know he's married now, but I think it's best if you tell him you're about to have his kid."

"Harry, I'm not having Ron's child," she responded, looking at him seriously.

"Oh, well, when did you make the appointment? I can go with you. You will need someone to look after you after a procedure like that. And maybe we should line up a therapist for you to speak to, so-"

"Harry, I'm not having Ron's child because I'm not pregnant with Ron's child. This baby is your baby," Hermione stated, looking at him even more seriously, if that were even possible.

"WHAT?! Hermione, please tell me you're joking! Please tell me this is some weird, sick, and twisted joke!"Harry bellowed, jumping to his feet.

Slowly, Hermione rose from the couch and walked over to stand directly in front of Harry.

"No, Harry. I am not joking. I am pregnant, and in less than eight months we will become-"

But Harry didn't let her finish.

"You can't have this baby, Hermione. Please, I'm begging you. Ginny and I are set to be married next month, and if she were to find out about this, not only would there be no wedding it would destroy her, as well," Harry implored.

"Would you have me do away with your child because you're too afraid to be a man and take care of your responsibility?! While I agree with abortion in certain circumstances, this is not one of them. Harry, listen to me. We are orphans, we have a chance now to form a family, not a typical one because I know we will never be involved romantically, but we will be a family, nonetheless. I'm sorry that we will end up hurting Ginny and the Weasley's, but we have to do right by our child. His or her needs are greater than ours," she replied stepping closer to take his hands.

But Harry merely stepped back, and shook his head.

"Then I won't be a part of this. I'm sorry, Hermione, but I finally have a shot at being happy, and I won't allow some mistake to ruin this for me. What happened between us was an accident, and while I regret that it's put you in this situation, I can't be a part of this. I refuse to be a part of this. For once in my life I want to be selfish. I've lived too long for other people. I deserve to not be a hero. I deserve to be a normal man. Listen, I can give you money to get rid of it, but I won't be part of its life if you choose to have it. I have everything to lose, and nothing to gain from you continuing this pregnancy," he coldly stated, looking straight at her.

"Did you even hear anything that you just said? How dare you even say those things? You, who know what it's like to be without parents, without love, would so carelessly toss aside your child for your idea of happiness?"

"I won't change my mind, Hermione. This child will never be a part of my life, and regardless of your choice, after what has happened between us, you can no longer be a part of my life either. I'm sorry it had to end like this, but-"

"No, Harry," Hermione interrupted, voice slightly shaking. "You are the one who is not allowed to be a part of our lives. From this day forward, I no longer know you. My child will never know of you. You will not seek us out when you have realized your mistake for I will not forgive you. Yes, what we did was a mistake, but our child is a gift. A gift you do not deserve in the slightest. However, before I leave I do have one question to ask." Here she stopped to grab her bag, and walk to the door, a bewildered and enraged Harry following her.

"What would your mother think?" and with that Hermione was out the door walking down the hall, towards the lift.

After having slammed the door, Harry proceeded to throw everything within reach. How dare she even ask something like that?! Enraged, Harry went to his photo albums and proceeded to rip apart every picture he had of Hermione. But when he has done, he only felt worse. Dumping the ripped pictures in a trash bag, he walked to his study.

Sitting down at his desk, he quickly penned a note to his Kingsley, telling him, he wouldn't be able to make it in to work the next day. He called Artemis, his tawny-colored owl, and tied the note to her leg, patting her softly once he was done.

Once she'd taken off, Harry went back to bed, knowing that he would lie in bed tossing and turning, thinking of Hermione and the child she carried. _His child_.

So many emotions had been felt by Harry that night and so many thoughts had run through his head that he'd failed to notice quite a few things with Hermione's appearance. Like the fact that she had more bags under her eyes than a grocery store and that her skin had taken on an unhealthy pallor.

However, it would be safe to assume even if Harry were to have noticed these things in Hermione, he wouldn't have cared.

Sooner than he thought possible, Harry once more drifted off to sleep, the forgotten sonogram and pregnancy test now lying underneath his couch, waiting to be found by an unsuspecting Weasley.

**Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really appreciate all the responses I have been getting. You guys are so amazing, and I just love reading your comments. **

**In regards to one comment made by GottaGetBackUp about Harry being kind of mean….yes, Harry will be mean in this one. But before I get tomatoes and other veggies thrown at me, let me explain. **

**Harry has spent all of his life being everyone's hero. He's had to always choose the higher road, and forego his pursuit of happiness in order to appease the masses, so now he wants to be selfish. I think JKR made a great point of showing how tired Harry was of always being "used" in OTP. The Harry in that book was a little darker, and I was so happy with that. **

**Of course, Harry is tired of being put on a pedestal. In my opinion, heroes who don't kook to be heroes sometimes want a break, and this is Harry's.**

**So, will Harry step up? Which Weasley finds the pregnancy test and sonogram? And, when will Hermione break dear Draco's heart?**

**Please reviews and let me know what you think!**


	5. Moving Forward

**Chapter 3: Moving Forward**

To say that she was shocked was an understatement. She was utterly and completely petrified. To assume that she was upset was stupid. She was devastated. And to think that she was mad was just plain moronic. Hermione Jean Granger was fuming!

If anyone would have told her as little as six months ago that she would soon be pregnant by her once best friend, and then left to fend for that baby alone, she would have called them crazy. However, this was her sad truth. She was alone, pregnant, and extremely scared of what the future would bring.

She never thought Harry would take the news so negatively. Of course, he would have been upset, but to actually say he wanted no part of their child's life was completely inexplicable to Hermione. Of all people, she thought Harry would be the one most willing to step up and do the right thing, but how wrong she'd been.

As she settled back on her bed, sipping hot cocoa, she began to wonder what she would do next. She always had a backup plan, but this time she was sure she wouldn't have needed one. She really had no idea what to do next. She would have the baby and raise him or her on her own, but she didn't know what else to do. However, one thing was certain; she would have to leave England. She couldn't have Harry Potter's bastard love child without the support of that child's father.

And that's when the fear that had been nagging Hermione in the back of her mind surfaced its ugly head.

Her child would be ridiculed, called a bastard, and she would be called a whore. Subconsciously, she'd been counting on Harry to stand with her and defend her, but now she knew better. She couldn't subject her child to a life where he or she would always be living on the outskirts of society being judged by the sins of his or her parents.

So, yes, she would leave England behind, and start somewhere new with her child. First thing in the morning she would pen a note to Kingsley, resigning from the Wizangamot and her job as Senior Member for the Rights of Mistreated Magical Creatures. She felt a slight pang, thinking that she would soon have to give up on causes that she loved so much, but the welfare of her child came first.

Maybe after enough time had passed she and her child could come back. Hopefully, Harry's genes won't prove to be more dominant than mine, she thought before turning off the lamp next to her bed and settling in for another restless night.

**~~~~~~~~~~~Two Days Later~~~~~~~~~~**

As Draco sat down to dinner he noticed his mother reading a letter, a troubled expression marring her pretty face.

"Is everything alright, Mother?" Draco asked politely, hoping she wouldn't keep him too long. He was hoping to catch Hermione before she went to bed.

"Dear, when was the last time you spoke with Hermione?" she asked, completely taking him by surprise.

"Well, I haven't seen her since Sunday, when we went to museum. However, I have written her since then, but I think she's been so caught up with work and dealing with Weasley's stupidity she hasn't replied to me. Actually, I was planning on stepping out later and popping over to her place for a visit," he replied, taking a bite of his roast.

"There's no easy way to say this, Draco, so here, just read this," she stated, handing him the letter she'd been reading.

A bemused Draco lowered his fork and knife, and took the letter from his mother's hand.

_Dearest Narcissa, _

_I hope this letter finds you in good spirits, as I am afraid I have some news which might be unpleasant to you. I find myself in a situation in life that makes it impossible for me to continue my life here in England. It's not that I am unhappy with anything in my life, but I feel as though I have outgrown the life I am currently leading. Ever since the problems that arose with my parents and my breakup with Ronald, I feel as though my life has been lacking in something. What it is I am not sure, but I am positive I will not find it in England. _

_Thank you for your friendship. You will never know how much I have enjoyed spending time with you in your gardens, library, and various other meeting places for our tea and biscuits. I will forever think of you as one of the loveliest women I have ever encountered. Perhaps we shall meet again, but if we should not, please do not despise me for cutting our friendship off._

_Please give my love to Draco. He is the truest friend I have ever had, and as much as I will miss you, I can't help but think I will miss him more._

_All My Love, _

_Hermione_

_P.S. Draco has a dentist's appointment on the 18__th__, would you kindly remind him that yes, he must go? Magic isn't the solution for everything. _

Never before had Narcissa ever seen the look of desperation that came across her only child's face, as he quickly stood up, accidently overturning the chair he'd been sitting on. And then with a loud _CRACK!_ Draco was gone.

She was gone. Her clothes, books, and personal items were all gone, as well. All that remained was sheet-covered furniture.

And her scent.

With one last look around Hermione's living room, Draco dropped to the floor, crying uncontrollably. He'd been so close, so close, to actually having her, and she'd slipped right through her fingers. Hermione had been his beacon, his rock, his lifesaver, and now, without her, he was lost.

He didn't know how long he'd been lying there on the cold hardwood floor, but when his mother showed up so much later, he allowed her to take him back to his bed, where she slowly rocked him to sleep; all the while her heart breaking, knowing her son was going through more pain than she knew how to fix.

Hermione had been right in saying that magic wasn't the solution for everything. Least of all a broken heart.

**I'm sorry if many of you find Draco super OOC, but I just want to remind everyone that through Hermione's friendship he has come to peace with himself and his actions. Later chapters will go more into depth with their history, things such as cooking classes and volunteering at animal shelters.**

**Thank you to all of you who have reviewed, favorite, and are following this. Seeing that so many people are into this is making me want to write more and more. **

**Please continue to review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 4: Memories**

Say what you want about Tinker; that he had mismatched eyes (one was blue and the other was purple), how he only had one arm (the other was cut off during the Final Battle), how his voice sounded like the voice of a 7 year-old boy, or perhaps how his nose resembled a doorknob. But one thing you must never say about Tinker, that he was a bad house-elf. No, no one could ever say Tinker didn't do his job or that he wasn't loyal to his family.

In fact, Tinker was absolutely the best house-elf you could ever hope to have. Ever.

So when Tinker flat-out told Draco that no, he couldn't find Missus Hermish for Draco, Draco merely grunted a thanks and locked himself in his room.

No one saw Draco for three weeks.

*0*0*0*

_God, she was frustrating! Walking onto the castle grounds with him to just then pick a fight! UGH! Stupid muggle-born!_

"_Granger, come on! It was just a joke! You don't have to get your knickers in a twist," Draco yelled, running after her. Alright, so maybe it was HIS fault. Maybe he shouldn't have brought up her parents, but come on! Where were the people that had spawned her? _

_Just as suddenly as she had taken off, she turned right around, and Draco froze. Her face was pink. Her hair seemed to crackle under the moonlight. But it wasn't those things that froze him. It was the vulnerability that she was emitting. This wasn't the Granger he was used to. _

"_I only asked you to come out here with me to see how your mother was. I know the anniversary of the death of your father is coming up, and I just wanted to know if she was okay. I've shown you nothing but kindness, tolerance, and even friendship since your trial, Draco. Would it kill you to do the same?"_

"_Listen, Granger, I didn't mean anything by what I said it-"_

"_Was just a joke? Well it wasn't a fucking joke to me! Do you want to know about my parents? Do you want to know how every night my parents would waltz around the living room after they'd tucked me into bed? Or how every time it rained, my father would hold me so I wouldn't be afraid of the lightning and thunder? Or perhaps you want to hear about how I knew that I was breaking their heart? Every time I chose Ron and Harry over them, they pretended it was alright. That I should want to be with my friends, but I saw that look in their eyes, that look of a hope extinguished. Better yet, why don't I tell you about how I erased their memories of me, of themselves, of their fucking lives! I may have done it to keep them safe from you and your vicious Death Eaters, but I erased their entire lives!" she stopped to take a breath, and Draco knew he should cut her off before she said anything else, but he had to hear this. Despite the revulsion he felt for himself and for his friends, for what they had made Granger do, he had to hear it. He deserved the pain her sorrow and distress caused him. _

"_Do you know where I was last week? No? No one knows, except McGonagall and Kingsley. Kingsley took me to go fetch my parents, to help me restore their memories." She slowly lowered herself onto a couch-sized rock next to the black lake. "But I couldn't do it. I saw them happy. I saw them hopeful. I saw them with their new baby. How could I take that away from them? How could I throw them once more into this world, this world of uncertainty and a daughter who writes every few weeks? I couldn't do that to them. I couldn't do that to my little brother, either." _

_Draco watched her as she silently cried to herself. Cried for her lost parents, a brother she'd never had, a childhood she'd lost. They stayed there until the sun began to rise, her sitting on her rock, him standing next to her. _

"_His name is Hermes," she said, as they parted ways in the Great Hall._

_Draco fought the lump forming in his throat all the way to his dormitory. _

_*0*0*0*_

In the present, in his room, Draco cried into his fourth bottle of Firewhiskey.

_*0*0*0*_

"_You're kidding, right?" Draco asked Hermione for what felt like the umpteenth time._

"_No, Draco, I'm not. People were actually enslaved because of the color of their skin," she responded, a little bored. For the past hour she had been explaining to him the concept of slavery. _

"_But how is it possible to say that someone is beneath you because of the color of their skin?! That's just fucking ignorant. It's not like you can help what color your skin is. And then they actually sold them? Like animals?! How did no one see that this was wrong?" Draco asked, mad and frustrated at the stupidity of muggles._

"_You do realize it's the same as calling people like me Mudbloods, right? I can't help that I was born a witch, Filch can't help that he was born a squib, and you can't help that you were born a prat."_

_And this one conversation finally opened Draco's eyes. He finally saw the injustice of it all. He understood her frustration at being treated as a second-class citizen of the wizarding community. And he finally understood that the hollow feeling at the pit of his stomach was actually remorse. _

"_At least I'm not a bookworm, Hermione," he responded, playfully. _

_He gently dipped her back as the last notes of the song played out. _

"_By the way, congratulations on getting your spew law passed."_

"_It's S.P.E.W., Malfoy," Ron said, interrupting them. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to get my girlfriend back."_

_As Draco released Hermione, that overwhelming feeling of jealousy overcame him._

_*0*0*0*_

Draco chucked the twelfth bottle where the other ones were, a small smile forming on his lips.

*0*0*0*

"_I think there's something wrong with Ron," she confided, slipping the forkful of spaghetti into her mouth._

"_Besides his atrocious manners, his horrible sense of fashion, his complete incompetence, the mangy red hair and freckles, and the gut he's starting to sport, I'd say very little is wrong with him," Draco responded, sipping his wine._

_As hard as she tried to fix him with a stony look, she couldn't. And soon Draco was pleased to see and hear her heartfelt laughter. And that laughter is what made it possible for him to sit there calmly and talk to her about a boyfriend that so clearly didn't deserve her. _

_But then again, he thought glumly, it's not like I deserve her either. _

*0*0*0*

And that's when it hit Draco. He did deserve someone as brilliant, loving, kind, giving, and gorgeous as Hermione. No, he didn't deserve someone like her.

He deserved happiness. And that happiness would only be found with Hermione. Not someone like her. Her, and only her.

"Tinker!" Draco bellowed drunkenly. He would fight for his happiness.

He would fight for his girl.

But where the fuck was she?

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